


art and desire

by throughout



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Cute Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Endgame Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, M/M, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Fluff, Malec, magnus x alec - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 18:42:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13324206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/throughout/pseuds/throughout
Summary: the night was a rediscovery of everything magnus had to offer him. it was a reaffirmation to himself that no matter how many years passed, that no matter how much time he had to memorise the curve of magnus’ hipbone and the sounds that emanated from him when he was at the precipice of losing control, a night like this would always make him feel like that first night: new, and exciting, and so unbelievably right.





	art and desire

**Author's Note:**

> i was feelin' a lot of feels 
> 
> find me on tumblr [@goldenalec](http://aleclightbaene.tumblr.com/) <3 (previously @aleclightbaene)

alec could recall with perfect clarity the curve of magnus’ hips peeking out from beneath satin sheets as the first rays of the morning sun played themselves over his sleeping form on the bed. his arms had been tucked under his head, his hair sleep-mussed. the sunlight had illuminated him as though it had been crafted to do so. then he had opened his eyes, and alec had been struck once again by the staggering beauty of the unglamoured irises, blurry with sleep as they focused on him. and he’d watched, stunned into silence as an unguarded, content smile had crept into them. a smile only alec got to see in their most private moments.

the night before, alec had pressed his lips to that smile as they’d stumbled their way to the bedroom in a heated frenzy. everything was searing to the touch, as lips grazed over flushed skin, and alec had felt the tingle of magic that had slipped from under magnus’ tight control soar through his skin when he’d found the spot on his lover’s neck that drove him wild. the air was thick with a kind of need that stemmed from touching the person you loved most in the world. and with every rustle of fingers against cloth, of alec reaching to the hem of magnus’ shirt and pulling it over his head in one swift motion, that need had multiplied until its effervescence dotted the air around them.

a shaky, breathless laugh had fallen from magnus’ lips. the laugh that alec would be content to hear if it was the last sound he’d ever have the chance to listen to.

and alec had swallowed that laugh before pushing him down onto the golden sheets of the bed. he lay there, the smile etched onto his face as though near permanent, his hair a mess and bruises of purple and pink blooming like wildflowers across the expanse of his neck and collarbones. he was breathing hard, chest rising and falling, and rising and falling, remnants of the faint shimmer adorning his face cascading down his body from alec’s actions.

he looked like a wild symphony of art and desire. he looked like something carved from alec’s deepest fantasy, his most secret reveries. like the longings of his heart brought to life in front of him, immortalised in bated breath falling from kiss-swollen lips.

he was the most beautiful being alec had ever seen.

the sheets had rippled like sunlight reflected off blue water as magnus pushed himself up, pupils blown wide with desire, black consuming the gold. there was this pure, undisguised want, need, in the molten pools of gold that sent waves of heat rushing through alec’s veins. the shimmering amber colour that had been painted over his eyelids was smudged in the corners. and alec felt all his breath leave him in a great sigh as magnus kissed him as though it was what he was put on this earth to do.

the night had worn on the way every one of alec’s best nights had. it was a rediscovery of everything magnus had to offer him. it was a reaffirmation to himself that no matter how many years passed, that no matter how much time he had to memorise the curve of magnus’ hipbone and the sounds that emanated from him when he was at the precipice of losing control, a night like this would always make him feel like that first night: new, and exciting, and so unbelievably _right_.

because magnus was alec’s every moment. he was every second, minute, hour. he was endless and constant. he was all-consuming.

and alec had fallen in love with him with the crashing, relentless force of the highest waterfall.

alec would always remember the way magnus had held him at the end, gazing into his eyes like they were all he needed to see to feel alive again, and stroked the hair at the nape of his neck.

and he could still hear magnus’ voice, echoing in his heartstrings, as he’d whispered, “you are everything, my love.”


End file.
